


The Business End

by jujus_writing_corner



Series: Whumptober 2019 [5]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Gen, Gun Violence, M/M, Rescue Attempt, Whumptober 2019, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:50:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujus_writing_corner/pseuds/jujus_writing_corner
Summary: Darkiplier ends up on the wrong end of a gun after what should’ve been a normal business dinner...and so does Yandereplier when he attempts to stage a rescue.Whumptober Day 5: Gunpoint





	The Business End

**Author's Note:**

> It's amazing it took me this long to write about DarkYan, given that they're my OTP for life. Too bad I'm always making them suffer lmao
> 
> Hope you like it!

Darkiplier never expected to get into a situation like this, and perhaps that was just the problem.

He’ll admit that he’s prone to not taking humans seriously, but in his defense, he rarely has to. Despite his broken body, his aura lends him more power than any human could hope to possess. Even if a human managed to get the better of him, he heals quickly, and his nature as a popular figment makes him virtually unkillable – at least, permanently unkillable. Get past his aura and he’s nearly as vulnerable as any human.

Dark had dealt with these guys before; one of the many gangs in Los Angeles, fairly small-time but gaining in numbers, pulling in people rejected by the flashier gangs around. It’s a business tactic that seems to be working well for them. Dark makes a point of knowing about the city’s underbelly, of communicating with the bosses of each gang and getting on their good side. At the very least, he won’t have to worry about Mark getting murdered by a gangster, thus leading to the end of the egos. But there’s other reasons for being involved, too: Dr. Iplier needs a steady supply of high-quality drugs and medical equipment, Wilford and Bim need show staff and airtime, and one never knows when they might need to call in a favor. They’re useful people to work with if one has the right skillset, and Dark very much does.

But evidently, this particular gang has gotten sick of him. What was meant to be a dinner with the boss has ended up here, with Dark knelt on the ground in a warehouse, rusty handcuffs around his wrists. He doesn’t know what sorts of drugs they managed to slip into his food, but whatever it was, it probably would’ve killed a normal human. As it is, Dark is lethargic, nearly paralyzed. He can hardly talk, much less get control of his aura. Any attempt to use it results in miserable little black puffs and wisps of harmless smoke. The boss is staring down at him with disdain.

“You are supposed to be dead, Damien.” His voice matches his sneer. His whole appearance matches this attitude, in fact: Taller than Dark, hulking in physique, yet fits perfectly well into his gaudy, red velvet suit. His hair is thick, black streaked through with gray, and his beard is well-trimmed.

“I gathered,” Dark replies to his statement, trying not to shudder. To hear the name “Damien” isn’t strange to him (it’s the name he uses around humans), but the irony of the boss's words is uncanny. “That would’ve been convenient, hm?”

“Indeed,” the boss says, beginning to walk in a slow circle around Dark. “You eat the food, you keel over, our autopsy doctors blame the restaurant, we all go home, you go in the ground.” He stops walking as he comes to face Dark again. “This is…more problematic.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to offer suggestions,” Dark wheezes. Talking through the drugs feels like talking underwater, with water pressure bearing down on his words. The boss chuckles.

“No, no, though it wouldn’t be unwelcome,” he quips.

Dark can’t help but notice the way he and the boss are talking, as though this were any other meeting. In a sense, Dark supposes they _are_ talking business. Murder is business for people like these, Dark just never expected to be on the proverbial, well, business end of it.

All at once, the tinny jingle of a cell phone interrupts. Dark’s brows furrow; he knows it isn’t his own phone. The boss, however, removes his phone from his pocket. He reads the caller ID, rolls his eyes, but answers anyway.

“You better have a good reason for interrupting me, Katashi…Yes, in fact, how did you know?…I see…In that case, why don’t you drop by our warehouse? You know the one…Good, I’ll be seeing you momentarily.”

The boss hangs up, and Dark looks at him curiously.

“That was Katashi, one of my associates,” the boss says. He grins. “He’ll be joining us shortly, and he’s bringing some company.”

Dark’s eyes narrow. He knows about Katashi; they’ve met more than once. He’s one of the higher-level members of the gang, and thus ends up in front of Dark to talk shop regularly. He wasn’t at tonight’s dinner, but he’s been present at many, including some of the parties the boss has thrown. Katashi is a go-between for the growing subset of Japanese members, as he’s so far the most fluent in English among them. He’s also as slimy as any other underling in the boss’s payroll, and Dark has to wonder what “company” he could possibly be bringing.

He hears who before he sees; the high-pitched, raging curses reach Dark’s ears before anyone turns the corner into the room. If Dark’s heart still beat it would be hammering fast, because it’s Yandereplier who he hears. Sure enough, Yandere is dragged in by two gangsters, led by a pistol-brandishing Katashi. Yandere’s scuffed up and spitting mad, but mostly unharmed. His eyes land on Dark immediately, and Dark can see the fear flit through them. He knows Dark well enough to realize that Dark’s been incapacitated.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss,” Katashi says, “But I figured you’d want to know.” His voice is deep and smooth; a contrast to his short, lean stature. He gestures to Yandere with the gun in his hand. “This one was prowling around looking for Damien. Says he knew something was wrong.”

Dark would sigh if he had the strength. Yandere knew he was going to dinner tonight, he must’ve put two and two together when Dark was late getting home. It probably didn’t help that Yandere is familiar with this gang already; he’s come to some of their parties as Dark’s plus one. To make matters worse, Yandere already knows Katashi from those parties, and the two disliked each other from the get go.

_“What’s with that look?” _Dark recalls asking Yandere soon after introductions. Katashi had said something to Yandere in Japanese that Dark didn’t know, and Yandere had a sour expression as a result.

_“Katashi-san,” _Yandere had growled, _“He asked me how I liked being your sugar baby.”_

Judging from the rest of their interactions, that’s about what Katashi takes Yandere for: A pretty bit of eye candy that Dark likes to tote around, one that doesn’t merit any concern. Even now, Katashi isn’t unnerved by the hate and fury radiating from Yandere.

“He knew something was wrong, hmm?” The boss leers at Yandere in a way that makes Dark’s blood start to boil, too. “Well, he was right, but perhaps he ought to learn not to stick his head where it doesn’t belong.”

“Bite me,” Yandere mutters, “What do you want with Yami?”

“That’s hardly your concern, brat,” Katashi says, “Didn’t Boss just tell you to mind your business?”

“It’s alright, Katashi,” the boss says, “It’s a fair question, considering what it means for him.” He looks towards Yandere. “Damien ought to be dead by now, we were just about to make it happen. Of course, that means we’ll have to kill you, too, so you don’t talk.” He opens his suit jacket and pulls out a heavy silver revolver. He grins. “I’m sure you understand.”

“Fuck you!” Yandere cries, struggling against the two men holding him. He’s halted when Katashi grabs him by the hair and puts his mouth to Yandere’s ear.

“Show some respect to the boss,” he growls. He says something else in Japanese that Dark doesn’t understand. Yandere’s nostrils flare as he replies, also in Japanese. Whatever he says, it makes Katashi’s face twist in anger, and he strikes Yandere’s face with the butt of his pistol. Then again. And again. The boss merely watches.

“Stop,” Dark says. He means to be louder, but the drugs in his system reduce his voice to a raspy rumble.

The boss sighs and waves a hand for Katashi to stop, as though he’s doing a huge, inconvenient favor. Katashi does stop, though he clearly would like to continue. Yandere’s nose is bleeding, and he spits blood onto the floor by Katashi’s shoes. He’s shaking with rage, but he doesn’t speak.

He freezes when the boss points his revolver at Dark.

“No!” he cries.

“Behave, little one,” the boss says, not looking at Yandere. “I hope to make your death as painless as Damien’s, but I only have so much patience.”

“Do you call this painless?” Dark gasps. Adrenaline is coursing through his body with nowhere to go; the drugs are still holding him in place, knelt and slouched over.

“Compared to what else I can do to you, yes, I do,” says the boss. He pushes the gun up against Dark’s head, into his hair. Yandere starts screaming.

“Let him go, let him go!!” he shrieks, fighting ever harder against the men holding him back.

“Shut up already!” Katashi barks, putting his own gun to Yandere’s head.

“Enough,” Dark says, “Enough, both of you.”

_“Yami,” _Yandere wails, tears beginning to run down his cheeks.

Dark knows there’s no way for both of them to get out alive. Knowing Yandere, he went looking for Dark without telling anyone first, so no more help is coming. The boss is going to kill Dark, that’s a given. Dark can’t stop him, he can hardly even think straight anymore. Yandere, though, has a chance. The other gangsters can barely hold him back as it is, and Yandere’s eyes are bright red through his tears. He only needs one more push to unlock the strongest, most violent part of himself.

Dark’s not worried. He knows he’ll be back before long. He can only hope that Yandere will be able to save himself in the meantime.

“Yandere,” Dark says, acutely aware of the boss’s gun in his hair, “Don’t give them a reason to torture you.”

“Yami, Yami, please,” Yandere sobs.

The boss leans in close to Dark, grinning devilishly.

“Any last words?”

“Only that you will regret this,” Dark answers. He glances at Yandere as he speaks, and Yandere moans, sagging where he stands. The boss laughs.

“We’ll see about that.” He pauses. “Well, _I_ will. Pleasure doing business, Damien.”

There’s hardly enough time for pain; mostly, the killing bullet is loud, hot against Dark’s skull for one blinding moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a habit of creating villain characters that I accidentally get attached to and find really interesting. In this case, it's Katashi and the gang boss. I kinda want to use them again.
> 
> Or maybe you'll see them again sometime this month, who knows? :3c


End file.
